


It Must Be Criminal

by killajokejosie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bitchslapping, Damaged Psyche, First Kiss, Forbidden Love, Gay Sex, Insanity, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Psychopaths In Love, Random - Freeform, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Weird, psychobabes love James Gordon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killajokejosie/pseuds/killajokejosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jerome finds his way back to Jim, because no one is quite like Jim and no one sees him like Jim does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Must Be Criminal

**Author's Note:**

> This is horrible and awful and doesn't flow, but it is helping me with writer's block so bad writing be dammed!

He flipped the tab on the can of sparkling citrus water or whatever bullshit it actually was and swigged it down. He leaned back in the chair, feeling enveloped by it. It wasn't warm, or particularly comfortable, but its scent was strong enough to blow him down. 

There was nothing about it that he would change. There was nothing about this moment that he would change. 

Any minute now. Any minute. The door would open and he would get to surprise the great Detective in all of his glory.

The best part of it all? Everyone thought he was dead.

He waited, drinking the citrus water that had somehow began to taste more like chamomile than any citrus fruit he had ever had. Deprived of sleep, bored from waiting, and lost in too deep a set of thoughts. He was drifting. The chair had arms that were just enough.

He suddenly slipped into an unsound sleep, images of strange and demented things coming to splash on the forefront of his mind while he dreamt away the late afternoon and into the evening.

***

Jim Gordon returned home, weak from the emotional roller coaster that had been the past few days. There had been so much to do, so much to say, but he was exhausted. He could not even find the energy to bring forth a decent conversation with Lee. 

It hurt to hear her turn him away from her place, forcing him to find refuge in his own bed. There had not been real refuge there for months. 

He walked inside, footsteps heavy as he moved towards the couch that he would most likely crash onto. The odds of him making it to his bedroom becoming more slim by the moment. It was desperation that forced him to continue. 

He stopped. Dead in his tracks he noticed something. A silhouette of a creature lying in his favorite chair. He moved to allow the moonlight to wash in over the figure, revealing paperwhite skin like a ghost and hair like flames from a fire.

His initial thoughts left him with a near crippling headache. The Maniax leader was supposed to be dead. This was an apparition. Even worse it could have been his head playing tricks on him. Worse than that would be that someone found a way to get the body into his apartment, a thought most terrifying.

He reached for his gun, knowing at any moment there might have been a decent time to use it. He refused to die like this.

Slowly, he stepped around to the front of the chair. He wanted to see just what was occupying the space. He leaned in, seeing the body of the ginger haired psychopath half curled into a ball. He appeared to be sleeping.

Reaching one hand out, he waved it in front of the young man's face. He was sleeping, because he was definitely breathing.

Jerome let out a soft sigh, moving into a more comfortable position, mumbling utter nonsense as he did. The shock of it all had Jim backing away, right foot catching on the leg of the coffee table and falling to the ground.

If the boy was hallucination only, Jim fathomed that made him more mentally ill than the boy ever was.

"Jim!?" Jerome startled, sitting up right and reevaluating his surroundings. The room was almost completely dark.

"Jerome?" Jim said the redhead's name, feeling dirty as it fell from his lips, the sound somehow becoming laced and hot with things he had not yet been able to identify. 

"When...when did you get home?" Jerome's voice softened, an innocent tone wrapping around equally innocent words.

Jim rubbed the back of his head, if he wasn't nursing a knot of some kind he ought to have been. "A better question would be: how are you alive?"

"Tsk. Tsk. That is not a question you ask a visitor." Jerome said as he slithered off the chair like the snake he was. "Besides, Jimbo, you of all people should know to never underestimate me, it was aaallll part of the plan."

Jim scooted himself backwards until his back was against the couch. Jerome continued to move closer, crawling slowly enough so that Jim could see every single bone and muscle move under flawless porcelain, the best of it covered by thin, worthless fabrics. He realized what those laced and hot things were, those things he was now able to identify.

Jerome stopped suddenly, sitting up on his knees. The dim lighting allowed him to better analyze the different features on Jim's face, allowed him the chance to fully read his expression to the fullest. Which he did. 

"Would it be an okay question to ask if I had wanted to know how you got in here?" Jim muttered.

One corner of Jerome's mouth turned upwards in a wicked half smile. "It would, but I wouldn't be inclined to answer,"

Jim propped himself up. "Then I would have to ask what you would be inclined to do?"

Jerome licked his lips. "Hmm...funny story about that, actually," He flipped his hand back, rolling his eyes and resting on the decision to chew on his full, bottom lip. 

It was at that moment that Jim realized that he did not have his phone and that for some reason it didn't bother him at all. 

"Do I get to hear this so called 'funny story'? Or am I just left here to wait for you to do something else?"

"From the sounds of that, I'd like to think that maybe you want me to skip the story and move on to the something else." Jerome whispered, lips so close to Jim's that they almost brushed against the older man's when he spoke. 

"Jerome!" Jim shouted. "I could have you back in Arkham in five minutes if I wanted!"

The young redhead tilted his head to the side. "Thing about that is, you won't, you don't want to,"

"How can you be so sure?" Jim asked, eyes squinted.

"Because you haven't even made an attempt to do so, yet," Jerome chuckled. "As I said, Jimmy, you don't want to,"

That dark corner of Jim's mind sprang to life. The desire to grab the boy and throw him down, ravaging the entirety of his slender frame, taking everything he wanted. The youth of the deranged man in front of him could have been his. Soft flesh and innocence boiling down past the rotten things that often slipped from his mouth. Jerome probably only barely knew what he was doing, what he was actually offering with his devilish words. Jim was a military man, he had seen it all, probably done it all, surely there were things even he could not remember.

"You insane boy," Jim mumbled, hand now pressed against the beating heart in Jerome's chest. The rhythm was frantic, excited, and more than a little likely terrified. 

"I..." Jerome began, but wasn't given the chance to finish speaking. 

Jim caught him by the mouth, hand grabbing at the nape of his neck to keep him from escaping, from fighting what he had teased into fruition. He slipped his tongue past the inexperienced lips, forcing him to fall in line with the lusty kiss. 

Jim placed both of his hands on Jerome's hips, pressing into his skin in order to show true dominance. He moved his own against Jerome, ensuring that he knew exactly what he was getting himself into. 

He let go. "Get up! Get off of me! Get up!"

The boom of Jim's voice echoed in his ears. "What?"

"No questions, just do as I say!"

Jerome rose to his feet, finding it somewhat difficult with his arousal causing his pants to become tighter. 

"Pants down, on the couch, now!" Jim shouted, giving out orders like he was still in the army, though he had never given out orders quite like these.

"Yes, Sir," Jerome mumbled as he dropped his pants down around his ankles before kicking them off with his feet.

A large hand came down on his backside, smacking hard against him, eliciting a yelp. 

"Sarcasm is not to be tolerated, nod if you understand?" Jim asked of him.

He nodded, but he was smiling. It was only okay if Jim could not see him smiling.

Before Jerome could make the snide comment that was brewing deep inside of him, Jim pushed his face down towards one of the cushions of the couch and roughly spread apart his legs. Without warning he felt a hot mouth on his ass, coring him at his very center.

Jim shoved two fingers into Jerome's mouth. The young man instinctively sucked on them, swirling his tongue around to fully coat the skin. He knew where it went from here. 

Jim pulled his fingers from Jerome. A small whine left the redhead's mouth at the absence of them. He quickly remedied it by pushing one finger into the younger man, moving in and out, slowly and tauntingly. 

"More, more, please," Jerome pleaded, hating the feeling when the intrusion was no longer inside of him.

"Don't talk," Jim said, shoving two fingers into the man this time.

A loud moan escaped from Jerome's lips. Jim's fingers moved in and out, scissoring apart and stretching him open. He hit his prostate again and again.

"Fuck me, Jim!" Jerome cried, pushing his hips back into Jim, fucking himself deeper on the older man's fingers. "Please! Please!"

Jim quickly rid himself of his pants, not bothering with his shirt or jacket. His hard cock was already dripping with precum, craving that first thrust. He considered the position for a moment. 

He flipped Jerome onto his back. He lowered himself down onto the couch before pulling the redhead on top of him. He stroked his thick shaft, looking the teen directly in his eyes. He was delicious, delectably lost in his head space as he gave attention to his own throbbing cock. 

Jim let out a feral growl, hands back on Jerome's hips as he guided him, wanting to him to impale himself. Jerome settled down, the entire length igniting fire within him. The feeling completely new. His brain lost in the intensity.

Jim bucked his hips, wanting to penetrate deeper. Jerome placed his hands on Jim's thighs, he began rocking his hips back and forth, taking every chance he could to feel the white hot heat. He moved up on the shaft, leaving only the tip inside of him, slamming back down hard as Jim started to writhe beneath him.

"Oh! Fuck!" Jerome shouted, finding a steady rhythm, moving even harder against Jim.

Jim sat upwards, wrapping his arms around Jerome. He bucked up into him, the velvet heat was all around him. 

The two lovers moved in sync, moans escaping loudly. Jerome bit down on Jim's neck, hard enough to break the skin. The sensation sent the detective over the edge, spiraling out of control as his release emptied inside of the gorgeous redhead. 

As his orgasm subsided, he took a hold of Jerome's manhood. He brought him to completion, body shaking as his back arched. Cries of pleasure leaving his lips like a waterfall. He returned to the bite mark on Jim's neck, breaking the skin, aftershocks destroying them in full waves. 

Jerome lifted his head up, blood on his teeth, dripping from the corner of his mouth. Jim kissed away the blood, feeling weakened and defeated and somehow satisfied.

"Jerome..." He mumbled.

"I've marked you, Jim, now you are mine," Jerome hissed. "Mine,"

Jim was about to agree. There was just something about this deranged ginger haired disaster that he enjoyed. The boy had had a horrible life, he had been handed the worst possible situation. He was misguided. He needed someone stronger to look out for him, maybe put him on the right track. Jim fancied that might be him, because now that the world believed Jerome was dead, there was plenty of reason to keep him locked away for a re-education. A little hair dye could have gone a long way. He was sure that there were other reasons to hold onto him. He had proved quite useful. 

Jerome was something else, entirely. Jim was entranced by beautiful blue green eyes and slim white muscles, deep ginger hair. He didn't wind up in this position because he didn't want to. 

The tingle had hit him the first time he had to speak to the boy. He could never tell Lee that, however.

"Does that mean that you are mine, as well?" Jim asked.

"If you'll have me," 

Jim nipped at the boy's jaw. "I would love to,"

They kissed. Jim's front door opened. Dr. Thompkins dropped the food she had brought her boyfriend. Jim stopped kissing Jerome, but he didn't dare to push him off. 

"Jim!" Lee shouted.

Jerome laughed, shrugging it off. "Eh, what do you do?"

 

 


End file.
